Wanting to Run

Acton's heart was bleeding—not only because of the soldiers' casualties, but also because of the helplessness he felt.

He watched helplessly as the warriors under his command were torn apart in swathes by that evil weapon from afar before they had even come face-to-face with the enemy.

He realized bitterly that the enemy's artillery was so accurate largely because of the dense formation they had been forced to maintain in order to preserve their momentum.

But they had no other choice! The Sauron people lacked long-range heavy firepower. If they wanted to defeat the enemy, their only option was to charge through the artillery fire and let their blades speak!

If only we had cannons too... The thought rose uncontrollably in his mind.

In a daze, Acton recalled that he seemed to have heard the Great Chieftain Harald mention that they were secretly recruiting craftsmen in an attempt to imitate the Goldspur people's firearms.

But distant water could not quench a nearby thirst. At this moment, they could only take the beating passively!

To keep the line intact and prevent it from breaking apart during the charge, they could not even advance too quickly. They were practically moving targets!

Most despairingly, even the army's finest plate armor was as thin as paper before such devastating power!

The frustration of being unable to fight back and having to endure the blows, coupled with the instinctive fear inspired by an unknown destructive force, dealt an extremely heavy psychological blow even to these Sauron warriors famed for their ferocity. Subtle unrest and hesitation began to spread through the ranks.

Taking advantage of the brief, suffocating lull after the bombardment, Acton suddenly thrust his head out from behind his shield and urgently looked toward Carnford's artillery positions, heedless of the danger.

The billowing white